Winter Wishes
by Seven Moves
Summary: One shot. Draco gets drunk over the holidays and Hermione is the one who gets stuck with him...in a greenhouse.


Winter Wishes

Author's Notes: This was written for The Draco/Hermione Fic Exchange. Enjoy!

xxx

_It is_, Hermione thought, _a horrible holiday season if ever there was one._

It was two days into the winter break and, as Head Girl, Hermione was in charge of the many holiday festivities - decorations and parties galore, all of which somehow led to one thing: drinking. And she was in charge of that, too. The kind of parties that weren't allowed at the school were held in Hogsmeade, and there was always the one group of drunk and rowdy students Hermione would have to round up. Tonight was no exception. McGonagall approached her after dinner.

"Miss Granger, I have been informed that a group of twenty or so Slytherins has started a riot in the village. I am under the impression that they've all been drinking heavily and Draco Malfoy – " she sniffed " – has apparently passed out."

Beside Hermione, Ron snorted. Hermione elbowed him in the side.

"It would be wise to bring others with you," McGonagall continued, "so they don't give you any trouble."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, professor."

McGonagall left and Hermione sighed. "This is the third party I've had to break up because drinking is against the rules. Do either of you want to come with me?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure." Ron agreed. "I don't want to miss seeing Malfoy passed out…D'you reckon blackmail would work on him?" he asked.

"Probably not," Hermione replied.

The three of them grabbed their cloaks from Gryffindor Tower and made their way to Hogsmeade. The snow was beginning to fall outside, covering the ground in a crisp white blanket. Hermione pulled her cloak tightly around herself; she hoped they were going in the right direction. The snow was falling enough to make it a little hard to distinguish between the sky and the ground. Harry pointed a gloved hand at a place before them. "There," he said. "I see lights."

"Could be Hagrid's hut," Ron suggested.

"No, I hear people talking and laughing. We're almost there," Hermione said. The trio pressed forward, stumbling into Hogsmeade five minutes later.

Four Slytherins were standing in the middle of the street, each of them swinging a bottle of firewhiskey and singing at the top of their lungs. Malcolm Baddock was loudest, standing on a crate he had dragged out from the back of a nearby shop. The singing was very bad; Hermione kept hearing the phrase "an ode to Draco Malfoy". Apparently Ron heard it too; he looked at Hermione.

"An ode to Draco Malfoy?" he said.

"They _are_ drunk."

"So I suppose being mental has absolutely nothing to do with it?"

They watched the group; most of the Slytherins were standing off to the side, pointing and laughing with glass bottles in their hands. One suddenly dropped his trousers and, to the amusement of the others, went running through the snow half-naked. Malcolm poured some firewhiskey on the young man as he passed by; the group shrieked with laughter.

Hermione sighed, "This isn't going to be pleasant, is it?"

"Was it ever?" Harry said.

"No…Where's Malfoy?"

Harry and Ron both indicated a snow-covered lump on the ground. "At least, I _think_ it's him," Ron said. The lump was right before the badly singing quartet; it didn't move. Hermione marched right up to the four Slytherins.

"This party is over," she said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Go back to the castle now or you'll all get detention. Especially you," she said to half-naked boy. "Put on your trousers and leave. Drinking is against the rules, no matter what the party. Don't force me to use magic on you."

Two seconds later, a cold ball of ice smacked the back of her head and trickled down her neck.

"Oy!" Ron shouted. He brandished his wand at the hysterical Slytherins; Harry pulled his out of his robes. "What do you want us to do?" he asked Hermione.

Hermione blinked several times, seeing stars. Before she could reply, the Slytherins seized the moment and opened fire, quickly making and launching balls of ice at the trio. Ron yelped and ducked; Harry threw up a shield spell; Hermione was hit again and dropped to the ground, covering her head. Peals of crazed laughter rang in her ears as the Slytherins ceased fire and ran away, leaving the lump of Draco Malfoy behind. Once the laughter faded, she looked up.

Ron was rubbing his face and shaking the ice from his red hair. Harry lowered his wand. "You two okay?"

"Yeah."

"I've been better."

They all gathered around the lump on the ground. "So is it Malfoy?"

Ron kicked it; the lump rolled onto its back and groaned. "It's Malfoy," he confirmed. "Can I throw a snowball at him to wake him up?"

"Ron – " _Thwap_. "Ron!"

"What? It's only snow in his face; he's already covered with it, what's anymore going to do…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We should take him back to the castle. He'll freeze out here if we leave him."

"He's going to have one nasty hangover in the morning," Harry said.

"Help me get him up."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of loathing before seizing Malfoy's arms and dragging the blonde to his feet. He moaned and swayed dangerously on the spot. "Two galleons says he's had at least six bottles of firewhiskey," Ron muttered. Hermione shot him a look worthy of McGonagall; she swung one of Malfoy's arms around her shoulders to steady him as she pulled him along.

"If you want to go back to the castle, you can," she said to Harry and Ron.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I can handle it from here." The two boys nodded, taking off in the direction they had come. "You certainly are a piece of work," Hermione said to Malfoy once the boys were gone. Malfoy said nothing, apparently passing in and out of consciousness. "How many bottles have you had, anyway? Four? Five?" Still nothing. "You're a brilliant conversationalist when you're unconscious. I bet I could tell you anything and you wouldn't remember it by morning."

Draco's head swung up. "Huh?" His grey eyes were bloodshot; he appeared very ill.

"Nothing," Hermione said. "Nothing at all. You're just very drunk and your so-called friends left you when we came. And…" She suddenly stopped. "We're lost." She didn't realize she had been walking on and on without looking at her surroundings. They were stuck in a swirling mass of snow that obscured everything.

"Lost?" Draco repeated hoarsely.

"Don't worry; I think the castle is that way." Hermione pointed to the left. She veered in that direction, hoping they wouldn't suddenly come upon the lake. Minutes crept by, feeling like hours. Draco had slipped back into unconsciousness; Hermione dragged him along, feeling the weight become heavier with every second. _Where is the castle?_ she thought. A dark shape loomed ahead, barely noticeable. _There. Not too much farther_. She went on, hurrying a little – she couldn't feel her toes and Draco's lips had turned a pale shade of blue. Discoloration of body parts was never a good sign. It was three minutes before they approached not Hogwarts, but the greenhouses.

_You've got to be kidding me. _

The greenhouses were made of glass, which probably meant that it was very chilly inside them, but at least they would be safe from the blizzard that was now forming. Hermione opened the door of the nearest one and pulled Draco in after her; to her surprise, it was quite warm. Professor Sprout must have kept a controlled temperature so the plants didn't freeze. Grateful to be out of the snow, Hermione sat Draco on the ground and knelt down beside him. His robes were thoroughly soaked; she peeled them off and laid them out, murmured a spell, and hot air came out of the end of her wand. The robes steamed as they dried; when they finished, she set them over Draco like a blanket.

She couldn't believe she was stuck here with him, but he wasn't half-bad after several bottles of whatever he'd had. She dried her own robes, then fell back against the wall. All of this had made her very tired – her eyelids started to droop…it _was_ rather warm…

xxx

A soft moan woke Hermione up. Draco stirred beside her, groaning. "What time is it?" he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Hermione slowly sat up and replied, "I don't know." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered past the glass. Outside, the blizzard had grown worse. Snow was falling thickly around them and the sky was dark grey, almost black. "Either we've slept through the next day or it's almost morning," she said.

"Are we still stuck here?" asked Draco.

"I'm afraid so."

The Slytherin moaned again, clutching the sides of his head. "This pounding is killing me." He plunged a hand into one of his pockets and pulled out a small glass bottle. The liquid inside was a copper color, sloshing against the glass. Hermione eyed the bottle warily as Draco popped the cork and drank down the contents. "What is that?" she said.

"Firewhiskey."

Hermione paused. "You're drinking alcohol to cure you of your hangover?"

Draco looked at her, the glass bottle still in his hand though now half-gone. "It's not strong," he said, "but enough to dull this throbbing pain in my head."

"And just about everything else. Do you have _any_ common sense?"

"It likes to sleep."

"I can't believe you! I go out into Hogsmeade only because I have to bring you into the castle to stop you from freezing – something your _friends_ didn't even do – and all you do is sit there with that bottle and drink firewhiskey!"

"This is no castle, Granger. This is a greenhouse. What do you want, thanks for stuffing me in a house of plants? Dying drunk and frozen would be better than this. At least hell is warm and roomy!"

Hermione glared at Draco, her brown eyes hurling daggers. She turned her back to him, pulling her robes tightly around herself. Minutes passed and she noticed a slight chill creeping in. "Malfoy, is it…getting colder?" she asked. She found her robes weren't quite enough to keep her warm; her arms were covered in gooseflesh. She heard Draco shift.

"It _is_ a little colder," he admitted. Hermione turned around; Draco slid a thin wand out of his shirt. She raised an eyebrow. "For safekeeping," Draco told her. "If something happens, my wand is still on me." He pointed it at the glass bottle and it was soon filled with the same copper liquid.

"Planning on drowning your sorrows in firewhiskey?"

"Actually, no." Without looking up, Draco handed her the bottle. "It'll keep you warm for a while."

Hermione stared. Was Draco actually being just a little considerate? _He's drunk, that's all. He doesn't know what he's doing_.

"Go on, I didn't poison it."

Reluctantly, Hermione took the bottle and poured the firewhiskey into her mouth. Any moment now, she knew, Draco would begin laughing like a crazed maniac and reveal that this was all a clever hoax so he could kill her, and that there_ was_ poison in the drink. But she drank it all down regardless; it carved a fiery path down her throat, warming her to the tips of her toes. She coughed and spluttered; Draco snorted. "First time you've ever had a drink, Granger?"

He didn't wait for a reply; instead, he took back the bottle and refilled it, drinking down more alcohol. Hermione watched him, her contempt slowly fading as the firewhiskey began to take effect. It didn't feel so cold anymore. Draco took another swig. "Drinking firewhiskey to make the time go by…" said Hermione with a shake of her head.

"Not true," Draco pointed out, his speech now slightly slurred. "It keeps us warm."

"This really isn't doing anything to cure your hangover."

Draco shrugged. "I've had worse."

With a sigh, Hermione drank down her second bottle of firewhiskey. Draco grabbed it and pulled it back, refilling it several times, to the point where he was giggling like a little schoolgirl whenever Hermione looked his way. Two drinks after his being reduced to the giggling schoolgirl stage, Hermione buried her face in her hands. "You are so drunk," she said to no one in particular.

"But I'm warm," replied Draco in a sing-song voice.

"Give me that," Hermione demanded, holding out her hand. "You've had quite enough."

"No!" Draco withdrew from her, clutching the glass bottle in his hands. He got to his feet and stumbled before regaining some balance; he slid the bottle into a pocket. "If you want it, you'll have to catch me!" Before Hermione could even blink, he opened the greenhouse door and dashed into the snow.

Hermione's expression screamed surprise. Instead of seeming drunk, Draco was acting like a child; maybe the two were one and the same in his case but Hermione refused to let him almost die again, especially because he was the reason she was stuck in a greenhouse to begin with. She plunged into the raging blizzard outside, pulling her robes tight. The snow was still thick and bitter winds did nothing to improve the situation. Hermione's eyes scanned the snowy landscape.

"Malfoy!" she shouted. Her voice was oddly distorted, even muffled. "Malfoy, get back here!"

A shadowy figure ran into her path, then swiftly moved away. It grew very faint before she decided to go after it. "Malfoy!" she yelled again.

Several minutes into the chase, she slowed to a stop. Nothing surrounding her was recognizable; the greenhouse was no longer visible, nor was the shadow she had been pursuing. _We'll both freeze out here,_ she thought. _Malfoy was right, at least hell is –_

Thwump.

Hermione fell over before she even finished her train of thought. Something had grabbed her arm and pulled her into the snow; she screamed and scrambled to her feet. "Get off me!" She whipped out her wand. "I know how to use magic!" she threatened, thinking it was a creature of the Forbidden Forest trying to whisk her away.

The grip on her arm loosened and she looked down. It was Malfoy, stretched out in the snow. Hermione nudged him with a foot. "Malfoy?" she said, rubbing a sore spot on her arm. She nudged him a little harder. His hand shot out and closed on her ankle, yanking her into the freshly made pile of snow. She shrieked.

"Just what do you think you're doing!"

She toppled over, making a soft plop beside Malfoy. "You – you – " Her teeth were chattering too much for her to finish the accusation. She drew her legs up to her chest; it was very cold. The effects of the firewhiskey were rapidly wearing off. She glanced sideways at Draco. He was still stretched out, sticking his tongue into the air to catch snowflakes. It was only too clear that he was still under the influence of the many drinks he'd had; Draco Malfoy would never act like this under normal circumstances.

Stifling the sudden urge to laugh at his child-like antics, Hermione covered her mouth and looked away. If they were going to freeze to death out here, at least one of them would be entertained. The minutes crept by rather slowly; with each passing one, Hermione could have sworn she lost some of the feeling in her limbs. Beside her, Draco was now making snow angels, the tip of his wand poking out of his shirt.

Hermione wanted to slap herself right then.

_Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?_ she thought, brushing the snowflakes from her face.

Their way back to the castle and out of this miserable situation was magic. The answer had been staring her in the face the whole time. She felt incredibly stupid and turned red, realizing it wasn't something she felt often, especially in the presence of Draco Malfoy. She reached over him and shook his shoulder. "I've got it," she told him. "I know how we can get back to the castle. We just have to use our wands."

Draco stopped the progress of his snow angel. He looked from the hand on his shoulder to Hermione's face. "Our…wands?" he said.

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She couldn't believe using magic hadn't occurred to her!

Draco slowly sat up; his head was throbbing again. He'd have an even worse hangover the next day. "We could've used magic all along?"

"Yes."

A long pause followed Hermione's reply.

"You know…" Draco titled his head far to the right. "You're kind of pretty in the snow."

Oh, he was _definitely_ still drunk. He would never pay Hermione a compliment, even if his life depended on it - especially about how she looked. Hermione removed her hand from his shoulder. "Um…We really should – "

What happened took her completely by surprise.

Draco leaned forward and pecked her on the lips. Startled, Hermione pulled away. "What was that!"

"I…uh…don't know…" Draco turned red, embarrassed, and hastily stood up. Hermione followed, watching him suspiciously. She held her wand high above her head and fired red sparks into the air. Without looking at her, Draco did the same.

Twenty minutes had passed when they heard the voice of Hagrid shouting for them over the wind. "Here!" Hermione yelled. "Hagrid, we're over here!" The half-giant came into view, shielding his face from the biting snow. "Hermione! I found yeh!"

Hermione took Draco by the arm and they approached Hagrid. "I'm so glad you're here, we would have frozen," she said.

"Yeh've been gone for over a day! Harry an' Ron are in a right state, they thought yeh might've died," Hagrid told her. He glanced at Draco, who was looking down at the snow. Leaning forward, Hagrid whispered, "He didn't do anything to yeh, did he?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied.

"Tha's good. Well, we'd better go up ter the castle, I 'spect yer both hungry." Hagrid turned and led the way. Hermione and Draco trailed behind him.

"That was certainly interesting," said Hermione quietly. For the first time she could ever remember, Draco allowed himself a small smile. "I'm very nice when I'm drunk, don't you think?"

"A little_ too_ nice. But drink a bottle of firewhiskey everyday and you'd be a bit more bearable," answered Hermione.

They both exchanged grins and walked on. _It may be true that a cheetah can't change its spots,_ Hermione thought as they came closer to the castle, _but at least a Malfoy can. _

_With the help of a little alcohol, anyway. _


End file.
